He was silent again for a minute, but then Johnny suddenly started up—waking perhaps out of some fever dream; for he seemed frightened and bewildered, and almost ready to cry; turning his head uneasily away from everything and everybody as it seemed, until his eyes were fairly open, and then giving almost a spring out of Faith's arms into those of Mr. Linden; holding him round the neck and breathing little sobbing breaths on his shoulder, till the resting-place had done its work,—till Mr. Linden's soft whispered words had given him comfort. But it was a little wearily then that he said, "Sing."
Was it wearily that the song was given? Faith could not tell,—she could not name those different notes in the voice, she could only feel that the octave reached from earth to heaven.
"'How kind is Jesus, Lord of all!
To hear my little feeble call.
How kind is Jesus, thus to be
Physician, Saviour, all to me!
'How much he loves me he doth shew;
How much he loves I cannot know.
I'm glad my life is his to keep,
Then he will watch and I may sleep.
'Jesus on earth, while here I lie;
Jesus in heaven, if I die:
I'm safe and happy in his care,
His love will keep me, here or there.
'An angel he may send for me,
And then an angel I shall be.
Lord Jesus, through thy love divine,
Thy little child is ever thine.'"
Faith had drawn her chair a little back and with her head leaning on the back of Mr. Linden's chair, listened—in a spirit not very different from Johnny's own. She looked up then when it was done, with almost as childlike a brow. It had quieted him, as with a charm, and the little smile he gave Faith was almost wondering why she looked grave.
"You've been here a good while," he said, as if the mere announcement of the fact spoke his thanks.
"Has she?" Mr. Linden said. "What has Miss Faith done with you, Johnny, if she has been here a good while?"
"All sorts of things," Johnny answered, with another comprehensive expression of gratitude.